


All the Aces in the Deck

by 655321



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Closeted Character, In which Jim Corrigan goes "holy shit I'm bi", M/M, Porn With Plot, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-15 08:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13609893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/655321/pseuds/655321
Summary: “I have this feeling like you might be in the closet, but that's none of my business,” John raised his hands, gesturing “hands off,” with the ciggy hanging from his lips. “After all, we barely know each other.”





	1. Chapter 1

_“Yeah it's a chronic pain in my ass but no, it's not a burden._   
_It's ironic that I drink to make my insides stop hurting._   
_And it's love that gives me heartburn,_   
_It's a song that makes my stomach turn,_   
_And I wouldn't trade my hand for all the aces in the deck_.” - Alkaline Trio, “Fine”

 

_“If I'm going to die_

_I want to make every moment count”_

 

Jim Corrigan stared down at the bar, and then sighed into his drink. When he forced his eyes back to Zed Martin's face, she was turned away.  His eyes followed her gaze and he thought he saw a shock of blonde hair, tail of tan trenchcoat, and cloud of smoke all retreating into the night.

Zed looked worried, but shook it off for Jim's sake. She placed her hand on his arm again. She meant it as a comforting gesture, nevermind that she knew he may interpret it as an invitation. Men did that, when they were infatuated; took basic kindness for a physical advance. But Zed wasn't scared of Jim, and she was too deeply an empath to ignore his distress. Still, the visions she saw around Jim...were not easy to stomach. His handsome face broken, bleeding. The green light all around him, almost a figure. Like a spectre, haunting him. Even when she wasn't in a vision it seemed vaguely like something was following him. His presence felt like more than just him. It was disconcerting. Even now that Zed had told him what she saw in her visions, they didn't retreat. It was a small agony even to touch him. But she endured it.

“Are you alright?” Jim asked, looking far too concerned for how tipsy he was and flirty he had been.

“Mmmhm,” Zed nodded in her sage way.

Their kiss had not gone as Corrigan had hoped. Now he felt sheepish, as if Zed had just been humoring him.

“Constantine,” he began awkwardly, “are you two -?” He trailed off, not knowing quite how to ask.

“No,” Zed answered, firmly but with her grace.

“Oh,” Jim felt desperately confused. “I'm sorry. I - I shouldn't have kissed you.” Jim rarely apologized; he rarely had to.

 _“_ It's okay,” she squeezed his arm. “We all have to support each other. No one else can understand what we're going through.”

Jim nodded vaguely and ordered a refill for his empty glass.

“John and I are close by necessity,” Zed continued. “He's helping me learn to control my abilities. Don't know anyone else who could help me like that. But he, like you, is a shameless flirt.”

That made Jim laugh, though he certainly did not feel shameless now.

“So what was that about?” He gestured to the bar’s entrance.

Zed appraised Jim's face for a long moment before giving a crooked smile.

“You haven't even noticed John making eyes at you,” she gave a quiet chuckle.

Jim stared at Zed for a moment while he felt a blush rising in his cheeks already heated from alcohol. His entire body froze but for his left arm which allowed him to down the drink all in one go. His eyes were wide.

“John… is -”

“Very into you,” Zed confirmed, smiling widely.

He understood perfectly. He desperately wanted to play naive, but it made too much sense. His mind played back all the times he used a flirtatious line on Zed only to have Constantine come loudly barrelling through the moment. At the time, he'd assumed it was because John also had feelings for Zed, which was probably true to some extent. Now Jim could imagine a pouty John Constantine who wanted his attention. A thrilling new sensation filled him when he realized the idea aroused him. The idea that Constantine had bristled at Jim's passes at Zed out of a desire for those passes to instead be directed at him… Corrigan found it a strangely heady thought. Jim could now clearly remember the moments in which John had openly flirted with him. At the time it had all passed him by, oblivious.

“He told you this?”

Zed looked away with a sigh, conflicted as to whether she should be telling Jim exactly what she'd heard from John, which was a lot. Constantine had a habit of oversharing, and she'd spent more than a few nights getting an earful from a very drunk John. She laughed, and covered her blush with a hand.

“Yes. The short answer is yes.”

“What's the long answer?” He pressed, looking rapt.

Now Zed was going to need a drink. She didn't, but thought about it for a moment. She sighed again.

“Something about enjoying being chained to a table alone in an interrogation room with you. He likes that kind of thing. Apparently getting arrested by you really did it for him.”

Jim felt a little dizzy and it had nothing to do with the drink. He sat, and ordered yet another drink. Zed only smiled, honestly happy to have something taking her mind off the death visions that felt like they had been on loop in her head for far too long. A weight had been lifted just by telling Jim, but the unconcerned manner in which he'd received the information also troubled her. Jim seemed far more shaken at the idea that another man might find him attractive. Men were certainly a different breed, she thought, shaking her head.

Sensual images were assaulting Jim's mind, rushing too fast, too hot, for him to truly follow; his thoughts became a blur of potential touch, and pleasure groans, and John Constantine’s smirk.

Jim didn't let himself admit whenever he found men attractive. And he'd never been in a position to be hit on by a man. He couldn't read coded phrases or veiled glances. He'd become very used to flirting with women. Women were usually happy to reciprocate. In fact, just as often women approached him. It was always fluid, like an instinct, like an open door. Jim Corrigan had a long line of lovers, girlfriends, and fiances behind him. It was only too easy to start something; seeing it through was another task entirely. And then there were the romantic casualties of his job, some figuratively, others literally. And no matter how much he tried not to think of them, they were burned in his subconscious and haunted his sleep.

But Jim Corrigan never quit. He pushed through. Now he had knowledge not only of his own death, but of a whole world of inexplicable wonder and terror. Jim rarely found himself truly frightened. He'd done this job for a long time and it had cost him everything. Hell, he wasn't even that scared the first time he saw a ghost.

So why the fuck did the idea of being with a man have him sweating and dizzy? He knew he had to go for it.

“Think I need some air,” he said, and closed out the bar tab.

 

\--

“Zed tells me - uh - that you - uh -”

Constantine just looked at him with amusement dancing in his bright eyes behind the cigarette smoke. He stood near a darkened parking garage down the street from the bar. Zed lingered, just out of earshot, while the detective approached the mage.

“That you - you're - _interested_ -”

Heavy emphasis on that word, to convey euphemism.

“ - in me.”

John's smile stretched his whole face; he couldn't even bring the ciggy to his lips.

“Oh, did she now?” John's head tilted, inquisitive. “Our girl's not one to go spilling secrets. What brought this on?”

“It's a secret?” Jim muttered thickly, voice low. He was cooler now; John's emphatic smile brought him confidence.

“Well,” Constantine shrugged, “you were going after Zed pretty hard.”

Corrigan gave a sigh, glanced around uselessly.

“I have this feeling,” John said.

Jim glanced back to watch him smoke while he talked.

“Like you might be in the closet, but that's none of my business,” John raised his hands, gesturing “hands off,” with the ciggy hanging from his lips. “After all, we barely know each other.”

Corrigan was mulling this over. John watched the city's lights play in his eyes and catch on his immaculate face.

Finally, Jim spoke.

“I've been through more with you and Zed than I have with anyone who wasn't a cop. Hell, even other cops. I never had time to think much about the weird shit, or doubt it, or ask questions. From what I've seen, I trust you. I don't have a choice.”

John's tongue clicked around an outgoing breath of smoke.

“Trust. That's a tricky thing, Jimbo.”

“Will you stop calling me that?”

“Are you going to make me?” John flicked away his cigarette and smirked.

Corrigan stepped close to Constantine. Close enough to touch. Or kiss.

“You drunk?” John suddenly asked, his eyes boldly giving Jim's body a once-over.

“Not drunk enough,” Jim chuckled in response, as he laid a hand on John's neck.

After a moment, when neither of them moved, John smirked.

“You wanna kiss me.”

It should have been a question but it wasn't, the smug bastard. John licked his lips slowly as he felt the other man trembling. He set a hand on Jim's hip, and squeezed. To Jim it felt like an anchor. His other arm circled John's hips but instead of a kiss, he bit John harshly on the neck. It wasn't a nip or a tease. It was deep and unrepentant and he didn't let up when he heard John yelp and then whimper. His beard scratched at the sensitive skin of John's neck. Jim swiped his tongue across the bite, and then sucked intensely at the flesh while gnawing it again.

He listened to John's breath, and his pulse, and his sensual whining. John's other hand grasped at the back of Jim's shirt while he arched his hips forward, tightly pressing their bodies together.

Jim chuckled, pulling back. “You like it rough, don't you?”

All of John's nerves were singing, aching for Jim to take him. He was ready to do anything for that voice. _Be_ anything Jim Corrigan wanted.

John gave a full bodied laugh, and tossed his arms over Jim's shoulders and around his neck like a long lost lover and growled, “Oh, love. You've no bloody idea.”

When John Constantine kissed him, Jim felt nothing but heat. The kiss was so hungry; rough and uncompromising. Immediately it was wet and John's tongue was in his mouth, and by the time he thought to reciprocate, Constantine was biting at his lower lip. He groaned into it; holding John by the hips and kissing him back unabashedly.

“Do you two plan on getting a room?” Zed asked with a knowing smile, a few feet away from them now.

“Well, filthy sod that I am, I'll do it just about anywhere, but I suppose you're right, love.”

As the two men separated, Jim allowed his mind to speculate on what John Constantine might look like getting fucked in a parking garage with neon and street lights illuminating his naked skin. John gave the others a nod and walked into the darkness of the garage. Zed nudged Jim, making him file his thoughts away for later and regain his motor functions, and they followed John into the darkness.

John fished a piece of chalk from his trenchcoat and drew an arch on a wall of concrete and inscribed various symbols around it. Jim glanced to Zed, who smiled back at him warmly.

Then he quirked an eyebrow as he watched John hold up his palm and speak arcane words towards the wall. The archway glowed, and then there was a room on the other side of it.

“Home, sweet home.”

John stepped aside from the door and held a hand out to it. Zed stepped through nonchalantly, obviously used to this method of transport. John only nodded to Jim when he stepped near with an inquiring glance. Jim stepped through easily, expecting it to feel strange, but it was no different than stepping between one room and another. The space was huge, bookshelves lined the room, a kitchen lay dark in the distance, and a spiral staircase lead up to a loft that ringed the entire space. It was warm, smelled of John's cigarettes and coffee and wood burning in a fireplace. Zed smiled at Jim's open, awed face. John stepped through the door and sealed it behind him, speaking another ritual phrase.

Jim was still taking in the space when John slapped his ass and with a wink asked, “so, d’ya wanna see the bedroom, then?”

Jim smiled back and answered simply, “yes.”

“You gonna join us, love?” John asked Zed.

She only smiled serenely and grabbed her sketchbook. She hugged it to her chest and answered, “I'll watch.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Jim. Your hands are shaking,” John took his hands gently in his own, his voice low and tender as he stood close to Jim. “You don't have to-”

But Corrigan kissed him before he could finish. He pulled his trembling hands from Constantine's and framed the man's face with them instead. Jim's kiss was hungry, desperate even, with more than passion - he had something to prove. 

John palmed the front of Jim's slacks, feeling him hard. He grinned.

“Well, looks like you're not as straight as you thought, eh, Jimmy-boy?”

Jim only chuckled, blushing, while John stroked his palm along his crotch teasingly. Then John's hands went to work on the slacks, getting them open, but dropping to his knees before Jim had the presence of mind to remove them completely. Jim's boxers followed, and John had his cock in hand while Jim's mind was still racing to catch up. John gazed up at him and licked along the side of his shaft purposefully, making a show of it. As if Jim’s brain wasn't already short-circuiting. John proceeded to give Jim the filthiest blow-job he'd ever received, something akin only to what Jim might have seen in a porno; stroking his shaft only to bounce the cock head noisily against his tongue; swiping the head across his cheek to leave smears of precome along his face; fondling and sucking his balls; licking and salivating all over every inch of his cock before he took it completely down his throat; maintaining eye contact through all of it. Jim strained to keep his eyes open; he sure as hell wasn't going to miss a second of this. John bobbed over his cock, the head hitting the back of his throat and slipping down into it, over and over. His cheeks hollowed, sucking Jim down his throat, tight and wet.

“Fuck, John,” Jim took him by the shoulders and gently pushed him away.

John released his cock, but kept nuzzling his face at it, licking his balls, his hands squeezing Jim’s ass.

“Come on, Jimmy, lemme make you come.”

“No, not yet,” he took John's face in his hand, “stand up.”

John did as he was told, and Jim pushed him backwards, sending him sprawling onto the bed. John only grinned while Jim pulled his own trousers off and then worked John’s open and got him naked. John's cock was leaking; Jim licked his lips and met John's eyes.

“You don't have to,” John mumbled.

But Jim was already leaning over him, wrapping fingers gently around his cock. John immediately moaned, looking needy, desperate for the contact, the reciprocity. 

“You keep saying that. Like you think you might be pressuring me. Almost makes me think you’re sweet on me.”

The sound John made was almost a giggle. Jim's hand was working slowly over his cock. Despite that, John looked him in the eyes and told him clearly, solidly, “I like you, Jim. I care about you.”

Jim smiled back, and it was boyish and sincere accompanied by a cute little blush before it became a cocky, wolfish grin.

“Didn't figure you for a romantic.”

“Oh, I can be whatever you want, Jim. You want romantic? You want slutty?”

“I just want you.”

“Mmm-” John cut himself off to kiss Jim's lips. “Now who's the romantic?”

Jim dipped his head so that his tongue could play at the head of John's cock, tasting the precome. He licked the shaft experimentally, and finally slipped the organ into his mouth. Muscles clenched, John was trying not to writhe; trying to give Jim the space to take everything at his own speed. John let the groans pour out of him, though; he couldn't hold it back.

“Mine’s the first cock ever been in your mouth, eh? Love, I'm honored.”

Jim pulled off his dick to answer, “you taste so good.”

John's head dropped back. “Oh, god, it's gonna be that mouth of yours that does me in.”

“My mouth, huh?”

Jim returned to John's cock, taking it a little deeper than before. The stretch of his lips around the shaft felt so dirty, like something he should be ashamed of but he wasn't. Slowly he worked on taking it deeper, adjusting to the foreign sensation of having something thick and hot and alive in his mouth. And the taste. The taste of clean flesh, but it was distinctly musky; it wasn't like kissing or sucking on a finger. Jim experimented with sucking it, pulling his lips in and dragging them along the shaft. 

“Ah, fuck, Jim. Fucking goddamn.”

Jim pushed down, pulled back up, slowly stroking his lips along John's cock, worked on sucking down, then up, until he got the hang of it and could bob his head along the length like John had. Well, not quite like John, but he was imitating the movement. 

“Jimmy, you gotta stop. I want you to fuck me.”

Jim straightened, catching his breath, then leaned over John in order to kiss his lips. From across the room, the flipping of pages in Zed’s sketchbook. Jim glanced up to her, and, feeling his gaze she met it with a wink and a quirk of her lips before her eyes returned to the page.

John knelt on the bed and reached over to a night stand, returning with a bottle that he handed to Jim. Jim flipped up the cap on the bottle, and poured viscous clear liquid into one hand. He coated his fingers in it before turning his attention to John. He suddenly felt overwhelmed seeing the other man with his ass up, hole exposed. Jim took deep breaths and touched a finger to the pink ring of muscle, feeling it tight; it didn't even give at his touch. Slowly, his eyes darting between John's face and his ass, he pressed at the hole.

“It's okay, love. It doesn't hurt.”

Jim finally slipped his finger through, feeling it tight and hot inside, clenching around him. John was immediately pressing back against his hand, pulling the finger deeper and reaching back to spread himself open.

“Jesus Christ, John.”

John chuckled, “Mm, I love to make a good Catholic blaspheme.”

“I never said I was a good Catholic,” Jim drawled back.

His voice made John shiver. His finger left him, and then returned, lubed up again and this time two fingers slid into him. He could feel the subtle stretch and it only made him want more.

John growled frustration into the pillow.

“More, Jim. God, I want your cock.”

Another slick finger slid inside him, and the three together twisted slowly to stretch him even further. It stung, but it didn't matter. The only thing in John's brain right now was just wanting Jim’s cock pulsing inside him.

“Jim, please!”

“Okay, baby,” Jim drawled, sliding his fingers out and giving John's ass a playful slap. “But you gotta turn over for me, I wanna see your face while I wreck you.”

And goddamn if that wasn't the sexiest thing John Constantine had ever heard. He twisted round, lay on his back and chuckled. Jim lubed up his cock before he grabbed John by the hips and pulled his ass up to Jim's kneeling thighs. John's hands palmed his own thighs, holding his legs up, spread wide. That look on Jim Corrigan’s face; the slack jawed, dark-eyed lust, John wanted to see it everyday for the rest of his life. John couldn't remember a time he'd been made to feel so sexy, so utterly wanted.

Jim pushed his cock into him slowly, his face displaying a careful concentration with eyes wide and lip bitten. 

“Ah,” John's voice was shaking while he abandoned himself to moaning at the intoxicating stretch of his ass around a cock. “Ah, Jim, fuck, god-”

“Okay?” Jim stopped to ask, only half inside him.

“It's fucking heaven, baby, don't stop, for the love of-”

Hands under John's ass, Jim shoved his cock fully into him.

“Yes! Fuck-” John grabbed at Jim's hips, holding him deep and wriggling against him, clenching around him. “Fuck, I love how you stretch me. You hit me so deep, baby.”

Still, John was wriggling his hips and bucking up against Jim and squirming to get the other man’s dick even deeper in him. Jim bent over him to growl low in his ear while teasing his hand across John's neck, “God, you're a filthy slut, aren't you? You're desperate for it.”

John clamped a hand around Jim’s forearm, indicating he should keep his hand on John's throat. John gave a wide smile.

“Yeah, I'm a fucking slut for you, baby. I haven't felt a cock this good in ages. Now, are you gonna fuck me or what, Jimbo?”

Jim smirked. He knew John had thrown that in because he knew he hated it and wanted to get a rise out of him. Jim straightened, and with his other hand going to John's thigh, he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward into John. John's cries started thick and guttural, but the longer Jim fucked him, with that sharp rhythm of striking hips making their flesh resound, the pitch of his moans grew increasingly higher. Fucking porn-star wailing, loud and unabashed. John was still gripping his forearm, trying to get Jim to press harder against his throat.

Jim was losing himself, pounding into John's body. John kept his own legs high and wide, open and eager for Jim, and it was truly inspirational. The vulnerability, the strength. Jim had never thought of opening himself for someone like that, but now, he thought he might be happy to try it.

John, with his head tilted back, still watched Jim with hooded eyes. Jim was anxiously aware of his hand at John's throat; it was the only thing holding back his climax. 

When John gave three quick taps to Jim's thigh, he immediately ceased all motion and his hand withdrew from John's neck.

“I'm sorry-”

“No, it's alright, love. I'm fine. I just want to try something, if you're up for it.”

John gave that characteristic smirk of his, but Jim took it right off his face when he eased his cock free of John's body, making him groan and bite at his lip instead. 

John pulled him in for a rough kiss before he told him, “lie down.”

Corrigan did as he was told, and lie down on his back. John shook his head.

“Flip over.”

Jim's brow drew tight, in hesitation.

“Trust me,” Constantine told him. 

Face down on the mattress, he felt John straddle his legs. John's hands immediately went to cup his ass, and he bit playfully at one cheek. Instinctively, Jim turned his face into the bed to catch the loud grunt he released, but as John buried his face in his ass and started to tongue at his hole he lost any composure he may have had. The occasional grunt progressed to groans that claimed every exhale and shaking gasps when he drew breath, became a pleading whine and staccato shouts when John pressed his tongue firmly against tight muscle and made it yield.

“Jim, could you arch your back for me?” 

Zed's honey voice coming from across the room slid through the haze of his pleasure and his body was moving to comply before his brain could catch up. John moved away from him at the same moment, and arching his back absolutely felt like he was begging for more.

“Good. Put your shoulders down a little more? Good,” Zed praised him from across the room, and that made Jim moan and again shove his face against the mattress. 

Jim watched her, her eyes flickering between them and her sketchbook. She was always so warm; she had an incredible, soothing aura. She was mesmerizing; so beautiful, so kind. God, he wanted her. Wanted to lay his head in her lap. He wanted her to stroke his hair and call him a good boy. Wanted to nuzzle at her thighs and smell her body.

John's hands were framing his ass cheeks again, and again his tongue pressed insistently to Jim's hole. John stroked his tongue over and around it, before slowly sinking his tongue deeper inside; over and over, each time pushing deeper until he was as deep as his tongue could reach. 

“John,” Jim was weakly trying to push the other man away, “that feels amazing, but-”

John gave him space and Jim rolled onto his back.

“I wanna be in you. Please-”

“You don't have to beg for it, love. I'm right here.”

John straddled him, and leaned in for a long string of wet kisses.

“Just so you know, doin’ it like this is my favorite, so it's not gonna last long.”

Jim only nodded, “yeah.”

“I want you to come inside me, Jim.”

Again, nodding.

John roamed his hands indulgently over Jim's chest, “will you let me come all over you?”

“Yes, goddamnit, John, just fuck me,” he growled, hands gripping John's thighs and ass hard enough to sting.

Hastily, John lubed up Jim's cock again, then lined the man up with his entrance and let it slide into him. He was panting, keeping eye contact with Jim as he sank onto his cock. John rolled his hips, savoring the stretch and the fill of having a hard cock inside him. 

“John,” he whined, unable to articulate what it meant to him, to have the other man sharing with him so intimately.

Somehow it felt different now, with John controlling the moment. Jim especially enjoyed watching John's cock bounce, slapping against his belly and thighs as he fucked himself eagerly on Jim. Jim could only run his hands over John's thighs gently, mindful not to impede his movement. From underneath him, he got to watch John's face, open but solid with concentration. His face held that same revelry as when Jim was in control but now there was something else; the confidence, the high that came with the control.

“Yes, John. You fuck me so well, baby. God, you feel good.”

Jim experimented with shoving his hips up whenever John pulled up, and it made the other man shake and groan, for now there was no escape from that fullness.

“Jimmy-”

“Make me come, John.”

John's hips stuttered in their practiced rhythm, and his hand stroked his own cock only a few times before he was spilling across Jim's chest. Jim groaned while he watched it and John’s hole was clenching around him, the same pulse as the spurts of sticky white come coating his chest and the tight spasming heat was pulling the orgasm out of Jim insistently. 

“Jo-hn,” the name floating out on his shuddering breath as he felt himself spilling hot inside the other man. “John, John.”

John's ass squeezed him tight, and with a few more rocking movements of his hips he had Jim drained and trembling. 

“Good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim was easing John's body off his cock and letting him slip out of his hands.

He flopped onto his back next to him, and then grabbed Jim and pulled him in close for a succession of sloppy kisses. John passes him a bottle of water from somewhere near the bedside table and lit a cigarette. Jim sat up and smirked because,  _ of course. _ After a moment Jim gestured to John that he should share the cigarette.

“Oh?” John quirked his brow inquisitively but passed the cigarette along.

Jim inhaled and, cigarette bouncing between his lips and smoke billowing forth answered, “I'm trying to quit.”

John laughed at that. He turned to Zed.

“Was it good for you, love?”

Zed only smirked, making finishing lines and rubbing her finger skillfully against a page. 

“Beautiful,” she finally answered, glancing up to the two men in bed. “Now,” she closed the notebook, “I'm going to bed.” She stood and, on her way out the door called back, “good night, boys.”

John snuggled close to the other man, kissing at his ribs for a moment before Jim offered him back the cigarette. Once John finished it and stubbed it out he turned to Jim and asked, “so. You tired?”

A slow smirk spread over Jim's lips and he shook his head. “No.”

John laughed, and was pulled into a kiss.

 

**

 

“Can I see?” 

Zed smiled up at Jim, and he sat at the table with her. 

“Sure,” she flipped from what she was working on, back to the previous night's endeavor. 

“Wow,” an involuntary shiver worked its way through Jim as his eyes roamed Zed’s studies of their coupling.

  
  


“Morning, all,” Chas entered the cabin with a paper bag of groceries, only to be met with an eye full of John Constantine, wearing only boxers and an apron, in the kitchen. Jim at least had his pants on.

“Morning, mate. Oh, this is Jim Corrigan. Jim, this’s me mate, Chas.”

“It's good to meet you, Jim. I've heard a lot about you.”

The men shook hands, Jim noticeably sheepish about his mild state of undress and that Chas had already heard of him. 

“Good things,” Chas assured him, “John's very taken with you.”

“Does everyone know my business?”

“Tends to happen, John, when you get drunk and tell everyone your business,” Chas answered, entering the kitchen and setting down the groceries.

“John, what is this,” Chas appraised the eggs John was cooking. “You're gonna feed this to people you love? No. Come on, get out of here.”

“Oi!” John shouted back, offended. “I'm not that bad.” 

Chas took the apron off of John, leaving him naked now but for his boxers. Chas put the apron on. “Let me cook. Go sit down, or put some clothes on.”

“You know you like the view,” John snarked as he left the kitchen.

“Yeah, not while I'm eating,” Chas snarked back.

“Ugh, I'm wounded,” John whined pitiably and laid his head on Jim's chest. 

Jim promptly led him back to the bedroom, and they both returned fully clothed.

  
  


“Chas, this was delicious,” Zed praised.

“Thank you, Zed,” Chas replied, and exchanged glances with a stone-faced John.

“Thanks for breakfast, Chas. I should get going.”

Jim stood from the table, bent to give John a kiss, and started toward the door before he realized he wasn't even in Louisiana.

“John, could you-?”

“'course, love.”

Once John had drawn the archway on a blank wall and spoke the words, he stood close to Jim and looked at the detective somewhat expectantly.

“You could take me with you,” John offered, quirking an eyebrow and holding his hands together in front of his chest in a pantomime of being handcuffed.

Jim smiled, kissed him, kissed his neck. 

“Better not. We both have work to do. But,” Jim ran a finger over John's neck tenderly and spoke in a whisper with his lips close to John's ear. “Don’t worry, baby. I'll be thinking about you, my needy little slut.”

John grabbed at Jim's lapels and kissed him.

“Jim, you should stay.”

Jim only shook his head, “nope. Gotta go.”

John growled and Jim grinned and stepped through the portal. John returned to the table with Zed and Chas, growling and sighing and finally lighting a cigarette. 

“What?” He asked, seeing Chas looking at him.

“I've never seen you like this. With anyone. Normally you keep everyone at arm's length, especially the people you sleep with. Jim must be really special.”

“Guess I wanna make every moment count.”

Zed looked up at him heavily then, and John met her eyes for a long moment. Chas read the tension.

“I'm missing something.”

Zed spoke up, slowly forcing out the words. “I've been having visions. Of Jim. They're different than usual. It's only when he's around, and I see him, like he is, but he's bloody and his face is broken and he's been shot.”

“Jesus,” Chas sighed and laid a hand on the table for Zed. She took it.

“And there's this green light, all around him. I wish I could know what it means. That's it, that's all I see, again and again. I don't even see how he dies or what happened.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Chas said, trying to reassure her, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah, but can we figure it out before it's too late?” John said, cigarette burning between his fingers. 

The whole table sat still and tense in silence for a moment before John put out the ciggy and stood.

“Let's get to work, then.”


End file.
